


Playdate

by TheStoryVerse



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Exorcisms, Falling from Heights, Graphic descriptions of past character deaths, Logan is a boss detective, Multi, Possession, Roman is adorable, Temporary Character Death, Virgil Roman and Patton are besties, Virgil is terrified per usual, Voodoo, graphic descriptions are just in the first chapter, suffocating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 08:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStoryVerse/pseuds/TheStoryVerse
Summary: Virgil crept down the hallway, holding his breath as his shoes creaked along the rotted floorboards. Virgil edged his back against the wall as he peered around the doorway. He had to get out of this house, but first he had to find Roman and Patton. After a tense moment, Virgil carefully moved into the next room.Virgil knew it was a bad idea to come here, but Patton had insisted on showing his newest friends the old colonial manor. Patton had called the old house on the hill charming, but Virgil called it creepy. Curse Patton with his bright smile and shining eyes. Virgil couldn’t say no to him. So here he and Roman were, wandering some rickety, centuries old home past midnight on the eve of Halloween. Who knew what ghosts or creatures were lurking in these abandoned halls? Nope. Virgil slipped out of the room and sped up, his heart beating wildly. Don’t think about that. Better just find Roman and Patton and get out fast.





	Playdate

**Author's Note:**

> And now, once again, I bid my hideous progeny go forth and prosper

Virgil crept down the hallway, holding his breath as his shoes creaked along the rotted floorboards. Virgil edged his back against the wall as he peered around the doorway. He had to get out of this house, but first he had to find Roman and Patton. After a tense moment, Virgil carefully moved into the next room.

Virgil knew it was a bad idea to come here, but Patton had insisted on showing his newest friends the old colonial manor. Patton had called the old house on the hill charming, but Virgil called it creepy. Curse Patton with his bright smile and shining eyes. Virgil couldn’t say no to him. So here he and Roman were, wandering some rickety, centuries old home past midnight on the eve of Halloween. Who knew what ghosts or creatures were lurking in these abandoned halls? Nope. Virgil slipped out of the room and sped up, his heart beating wildly. Don’t think about that. Better just find Roman and Patton and get out fast.

Virgil didn’t even know which floor he was on anymore. Patton had led him around staircases like a labyrinth, jumping steps and chattering aimlessly the whole way. They’d come upon this hallway with the most beautiful ornamental rugs and old oil paintings. He’d stopped for one second, just looked away for one second, to gaze at their faded colors and designs closer, then Patton was gone.

Virgil tensed as a faint breath of wind brushed up the hairs on his arms. He whipped his arms into his body and shuddered. An open window. It was just that. It was just an open window somewhere. Maybe if he could just get to it, he could get his bearings on where he was. Virgil nodded to himself. Yes, that was a good plan.

Virgil twisted left into another hall and hurried towards the breeze, the planks crackling agitatedly under his feet. He kept his eyes focused on the room ahead of him, not slowing down until he reached the open door.

Virgil leaned his head into the room, glancing around the corners. “Patton?” Virgil whispered.

Nothing.

He tentatively crept in, the wind whispering softly along his face.

The room was oddly shaped. Four walls washed in moonlight branched out from Virgil, curving around him like a pentagon to meet a stately balcony directly across from him as its base. There. Relief flooded Virgil’s veins. A way to see out. There were bits of broken boxes and pieces of furniture scattered throughout the room. Virgil carefully picked his way between two cherry wood desks towards the wide, open balcony.

Cracked and dusty windows stretched from ceiling to floor and framed the open space. The cracked glass scattered the reflection of the moonlight like cobwebs across Virgil’s feet as he moved forward. Faded sky blue curtains billowed gently in the night breeze, heavy and worn cotton stroking his ankles as he stopped at the edge where the wall met the balcony beyond.

Despite the grandness of the windows and curtains, the balcony floor itself was quite small. There was no railing other than a few broken off stumps of wood, the once-white paint chipped away to almost nothing. Virgil gulped and inched forward onto the balcony. He could see the lights of their city glistening like fireflies far below and the dark edges of some forests and mountains beyond their town. Virgil wavered. He couldn’t tell which side of the house he was on, unless he went further and tried to see down into the gardens.

Virgil sucked in a shaky breath and slid forward a step more to peer down. Virgil slammed his eyes shut with a moan, immediately wishing he hadn’t. It was one of the tower rooms connected to the house. No other rooms or floors above or below him. _What the hell kind of person put tower rooms in an old colonial home? Oh, crap. He was really high up_. He tried to calm his breathing, moving to step off the balcony.

Virgil careened violently as a thud reverberated through the room. The floor screeched and he threw his hands out for balance as he staggered, hands flailing to find purchase The curtains flashed against his fingers and he dug his nails in them, chest heaving as he tried to get his feet back under him. He needed to get out of here. He needed to get down. “Pa-Patton?” He croaked. Virgil turned around.

Another tremor surged through the floorboards, the wood rippling in waves underneath him, screeching and groaning as they warped under the pressure. The wind lashed at his hair, pulling and ripping its fingers through the back of his head. Virgil screamed as he staggered backward, the thick curtain twisting around his legs and slipping through his hands as he fought to stay upright. Virgil cried out again as the windows shattered, glass showering Virgil’s hoodie and hair.

The balcony shuddered under his feet and Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his face. The wind howled through Virgil’s hair, blasting his bangs in his face, lifting them. “Please, please, please.” He begged, sobbing. “Please stop!”

He shuddered, hunkering down and sobbing. Slowly, the rumbling petered off. The wind vanished, leaving only the clinking of a few stray shards of glass on the floor behind.

Virgil didn’t move. He wheezed, desperately trying to regulate his breathing. He unclenched one white-knuckled fist, pulling his bloody nails from the ripped fabric to press the hand to his chest, sucking in large gulps of air.

Slowly, Virgil got his breathing under control and started to pull himself up with the curtain, his legs wobbling violently as he tottered upright. Virgil’s head spun. His arms were like jelly, the muscles in his fingers twitching uncontrollably. He had to get out of here. He had to get out of here, _now_.

Virgil wrenched forward.

The balcony wrenched under him. And snapped.

For a moment, Virgil hovered on air. Then, he slipped.

Panic flooded his throat.

Virgil’s eyes widened. He gasped as he fell backwards.

His hands reached out, bloody nails stretching forward. They brushed the edges of the sky blue curtain.

A desperate scream strangled in his throat.

The ground rushed to meet him.

~

Roman strode through the whitewashed halls, delighted by the carvings and decorations along the wood paneling in the halls. Every room was so intricate and extravagant; its ancient grandeur thrilling him with promises of mystery and adventure. Roman ran his fingers along the bottoms of gilded picture frames. He could see why Patton loved coming here. The faded colors had such a mysterious air, like the house was alive somehow. The creaking of the pine floors beneath his feet only added to the overall aesthetic of the house. In fact, they sounded rather, musical.

Roman grinned. He began humming a tune as he perused a beautiful ballroom. He started dancing around the room, letting the creaking of the floors and walls sway in time with the rise and fall of his melody He matched pitches where he could, and laughed when a particularly unfriendly screech of the wood jarred his humming. Roman laughed as he spun around, imagining the spider web filmed chandelier above him glittering in all its golden glory as music filled the manor. He began to waltz, arms raised as he dreamed a partner to accompany him. An enchanting young man, not unlike a certain-

“Roman!”

Roman shrieked and skittered to a halt. “Great Odin’s ghost, Patton! You scared me.” He gasped, one hand covering his chest as he gazed at his friend.

Patton covered his mouth and giggled, sky blue shirt twirling at his waist as he swiveled on the balls of his feet. “I’m sorry, Roman! I just got excited. You were dancing so beautifully!”

Roman puffed out his chest, preening. “Of course my dear, Padre! A prince must be prepared to woo all his suitors, and what better way than through the majesty of dance!” He struck another pose, holding one hand out grandly at Patton with a brilliant smile.

Patton laughed brightly and took it, allowing Roman to twirl him into his chest, giggling as they bumped into each other. “Yeah,” he breathed, eyes going misty. “I wish I could see it all lit up, full of music and dancing, like it used to be.”

Roman’s smile turned gentle as he started to lead Patton through a languid waltz. Patton gazed up at him, eyes sparkling. Roman laughed as he danced Patton around the room, humming picking back up again as he led them through a more complicated step. Roman looked around the room, imagining he could see the throngs of people, then faltered.

“Hey, Pat?” Roman tilted his head in confusion.

Patton blinked up at him, mirroring Roman’s head tilt in a gesture to continue.

“Where’s-”

Both Patton and Roman jumped apart as a faint scream cut through the air.

“Virgil!” Roman whirled around in a circle, trying to find out which direction the cry had come from, but it echoed from every direction in the acoustic room.

Patton looked at Roman with wide eyes. Roman’s mind raced, eyes darting everywhere. “Quick, we’ll split up! You search that way Padre,” Roman pointed back the way they had come. “And I’ll head this way.” He gestured forward. “We can cover more ground that way, and I can see if there’s anything outside.” Patton saluted Roman, then turned on his heels and ran off calling for Virgil.

Roman sprinted across the ballroom and burst through the double doors on the other end. He shot through the glass doors overlooking the patio and ran into the overgrown garden. “Virgil!” Roman called out. He turned around in the garden, dust clinging to his shoes as he twitched one way and then another. Roman swung his head back and forth, assessing the different cobbled pathways stretching around him before picking a random one to his right and jogging along it.

“Virgil!” He called again. “Pat!”

Roman wove his way through some old arbors, slowing down to peer through the twisting, knotted trees. Roman made a frustrated noise. He couldn’t see or hear anything from this position. Roman veered left and began weaving his way down a different path. He stumbled through the ground ivy, the small purple petals littering the path. He passed more arbors, then paused. Roman frowned, brow furrowed, and stepped off the path.

_What the?_

His fingers brushed against one of the ivy-covered structures. He made a noise of surprise. It was sandstone. Roman looked around, hand still resting on the sandstone, peering closer at each set. They were all stone and, he turned slowly analyzing each one, all facing, Roman glanced at the mountains, west? Roman frowned. Didn’t Logan say something about-

Roman gasped as his hand slipped against an engraving in the stone. He knelt in the mud in front of it and pulled at the thick, entwined sets of tiny branches coiling around the stone. His hand traced the symbols. Gravestones. A chill ran through him. This wasn’t an arboretum. This was a graveyard.

A strangled cry slashed through the air, louder than before and Roman snapped his hand back as if it had been burned. Roman darted through the gravetones, growling when his feet caught in the thick mud, slowing him down. “Patton, Virgil!”

His steps were getting slower and shorter, he was practically wading through the mud now. Roman hissed under his breath, yanking each foot up and setting it down with a loud squelch. The mud was almost up to his knees.

“Virgil!” He croaked, voice hoarse. “Patto- Whoa!” Roman yelped as his feet gave way underneath him, slipping down a small incline. He splashed to the ground, cursing and groaning. He stood back up. He was now waist deep in the muddy water. Roman’s nose curled. The stench was awful. It was like a bog in here, but, that was impossible.

Roman cursed again. He didn’t have time for this! He had to get to Virgil and Patton. Roman tried to move back and climb up but was jerked to a stop. He twisted again, but nothing happened. He couldn’t move. Roman wobbled as he felt a tremor run through the earth, then gasped as the muddy water slushed against his chest under his shirt.

Roman’s heart stopped. He was sinking. _He was sinking_.

Panic flooded Roman veins and he flailed, reaching desperately for a nearby branch or tree or vine, anything. Vines unraveled; branches snapped off in his hands. His hands scrabbled on the hill and tree roots around him but he couldn’t gain purchase as he sunk deeper and deeper.

Cold mud filled his mouth as he tried to scream.

~

Patton giggled as he bent down from his bed and scooped the little doll up out of the broken glass. Reenacting that particular scene was always fun.

Sunlight streamed in from the window, splaying across his legs on the bed and the white walls of his room. Sheets and blankets rumpled and sliding off the bed from where he’d kicked them as he’d woken up. The walls were a little scuffed and some bits and pieces of wood and wallpaper could do with repainting and replacing.

There wasn’t much in the room, aside from a messy writing desk, his bed, and a shelf with a few of his favorite toys. Keepsakes from long ago. It wasn’t much, but it was still home.

He could hear children laughing and playing outside through the open window. It was just two days before Halloween. Patton's favorite time of the year.

Patton hummed as he brushed the dirt off of his little prince’s sash and picked the last traces of glass dust out of his little emo’s hair. He gently kissed each doll’s forehead and set them with the others. It wouldn’t do to have his dolls looking unkempt when his tutor came over tomorrow. Logan had finally agreed to come exploring with him once their session was done, and Patton loved showing his new friends the manor.

**Author's Note:**

> The most disturbing aspects of this are probably my roommates fault since I’ve never written horror before and its her favorite genre. It’s just a few lines here and there, like that last one in Roman's ick girl why


End file.
